


There's a Bullet Proof Bond Between Meaning and You

by Bluejay141519



Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: 'safety', Bergy is protective, M/M, Nightmares, Prompt Fill, Rat, brad is soff, finally lol
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-12
Updated: 2019-01-12
Packaged: 2019-10-08 16:36:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,385
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17389865
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bluejay141519/pseuds/Bluejay141519
Summary: “You’re safe. You’re safe. You’re safe.” Patrice squeezes tighter and rocks them back and forth. He’ll say it as many times as he needs to, until Brad’s awake enough to hear it. “You’re safe. You’re safe here.”





	There's a Bullet Proof Bond Between Meaning and You

**Author's Note:**

  * For [blindbatalex](https://archiveofourown.org/users/blindbatalex/gifts).



> not happy with this at all but,,,its not getting any better. Enjoy!

 

 

\----------

_**Patrice** _

 

He wakes up to screaming. 

 

It’s not entirely new to him - which is really, really, depressing - but it isn’t the first time either of them have woken up to flailing limbs and tears. 

 

One of Brad’s arms hit him in the side, and there’s a sharp, shrill whine that follows the first screech of terror. Patrice grunts and struggles to sit up, the blankets twisted and tangled up between them. Marchy must’ve been tossing for a while. Normally Patrice wakes up during that, so they don’t usually get to this point, but it’s the middle of the season, and they’re exhausted.

 

He’ll feel guilty about that later. Right now, he needs to wake up his boyfriend. 

 

He catches one of his wrists before it can hit him in the face, and Brad honest to god  _ wails _ in pain. It’s so visceral Bergy flinches back, and has to get over the rising tide of panic to take control of the situation. He kicks at the blankets, mouth moving a thousand miles an hour, just- talking.

 

_ “ _ No- no, no hey- hey Brad, baby- _ ”  _ Marchy twists again, and this point he’s afraid Brad might  _ actually hurt himself _ , so he wraps him in his arms, hugging the flailing arms to Brads sides. “Okay, it’s okay baby, it’s okay.” Another cry, but this time, it’s clear, it’s  _ help _ -

 

-it’s Bergys heart leaping into his throat and sitting them up and curling around Marchands body, telling him “ _ You’re safe _ .” 

 

“Do you hear me Brad? You’re safe. You’re safe. You’re safe.” Patrice squeezes tighter and rocks them back and forth. He’ll say it as many times as he needs to, until Brad’s awake enough to hear it. “You’re safe. You’re safe here.”

 

The struggles have calmed just enough that Patrice can hear his own heartbeat pounding away. It always stirs up something dark and dangerous inside him when he hears Brad like this - hell, whenever he hears Brad being anything other than  _ happy - _ there’s something there, deep in his gut, that he refuses to look to closely at. He thinks if he did...well, he might have to lose the ‘ _ Saint’ _ before his last name.

 

It’s driven by fear, sure, but as he slowly lays them back down, and fixes the blankets, and pets Brad’s hair, he knows what the ugly thing is.

 

It’s anger. No, it’s worse than that, it’s  _ rage _ , it’s- it’s an unconditional want to do unspeakable things to whoever or whatever tries to hurt Brad. It’s nothing new, this need to keep him safe, to be  _ so  _ angry at whatever  _ dares  _ try to go after his boyfriend, but sometimes like tonight, he feels it so deeply it scares him a little.

 

The only thing that ever makes it go away is touching him, feeling Marchy around him, knowing he’s safe and he’s okay. (It’s barely restraining himself from pummeling guys who land bad hits on him, and not talking back to the refs when they looks the other way). So he holds him close, and he kisses him and lets his whispers of love fill the space between them.

 

Eventually it works, enough that the fear drains from his muscles and he can hold Brad comfortably. He’s not even sure if Brad ever really wakes up, but he shushes him needlessly anyway. 

 

“I love you.” He whispers as he slowly makes himself relax, letting sleep start to take him once more. Patrice keeps his arms around him, even knowing one of them will probably fall asleep and he’ll wake up with a totally numb arm. “You’re safe here baby.” He sighs, long and deep, and kisses his forhead. “I love you. So, so much.” 

 

Marchy just shifts a little in his arms, burrowing impossibly closer to Bergy’s chest. Patrice falls asleep once again, the man who holds his heart...safe.

 

**_\--------------_ **

**_Brad._ **

 

Patrice has always meant safety.

 

Before they were together, on the ice, it was safe with him there. They were lineys, and having Bergy out there meant he wasn’t injured, meant they were playing well together, meant things were normal. It meant Brad was safe in his spot, and Bergy was safe and healthy in his.

 

After, Brad looks to his embrace - Patrice’s arm around his shoulders as he curls into his side, being the little spoon at night with one arm over his side and a hand splayed possessively over his stomach, the way Patrice would cup his face when he kisses him - and he sees safety. He  _ feels  _ it, with everything Patrice does, and says, and every way he touches him. 

 

It’s why, after a bad practice, and a worse game, he’ll come home and tug Bergy into the shower, even though they both already took one at the rink, and he closes his eyes and lays his head on Bergey's shoulder and just...is. Patrice always endulges him, and holds him while the nearly burning hot water cascades over their shoulders. 

 

Patrice won’t say anything, and Brad will think of every hit and every turnover and every mistake, until the water cools and his fingers are prunes. Then Patrice will kiss his forehead, and tells him he loves him, and Marchy will be able to breath again, there, safe and protected by the fierce love of the gentlest man he knows.

 

It’s why he isn’t surprised, when he wakes up with tears on his face and terror in his heart, to feel rough skin on his arms, a gentle but firm hold, and a voice in his ears. He can’t remember the dream, but he feels the adrenaline rushing through him still, an irrational amount of fear making him squirm on instinct. Patrice keeps talking, soft and quiet, a litany of sweet nothings that slowly pulls him back from the edge of the nightmare.

 

“ _ You’re safe _ .” Bergy tells him. “ _ You’re safe. Do you hear me sweetheart? You’re safe here.” _

 

It last forever, but is over in seconds, time slipping and warping around their little bubble of the world. His brain can’t pay attention to how long it’s been, he just know when he opens his eyes, he isn’t crying anymore, and his breathing is even. He doesn’t even remember it happening. There was no conscious decision to calm down.

 

But then Patrice has always been special like that (for the love of christ the guy’s hugs are considered five star in the B’s locker room, and have been known to move even the toughest to tears).

 

He tries to open his mouth and tell him- tell him-  _ something _ \- ‘ _ Thank you’, ‘I love you’, ‘I don’t deserve you’, ‘how in the hell are you a real person’ _ ? All of the above? - but Patrice just shushes him and lays them down, Brad somehow, impossibly still in his arms.

 

He never wants to leave.

 

They don’t talk, and Bergy just peppers his face with feather soft kisses while carding his fingers through Brads hair. He thinks, maybe, if he could have this forever, it wouldn’t be enough. This feeling of peace, of complete protection, of  _ love  _ \- there’s nothing that will ever come close. He can’t remember the dream, but he knows it was about losing this, losing  _ him. _ Losing the one person who he’s ever felt safe with.

 

Eventually, the soft touches start to linger, and he feels Bergy relax slowly. He isn’t asleep - his breathing isn’t even yet, but whatever stress he was dealing with because of Brad’s nightmare, it’s gone now. 

 

He wonders, if some of the things Bergy was saying, were not just to help Marchy, but to assure himself too. He wonders, really, if that’s what it is for Patrice, when he holds Brad. At night when they sleep, is that to cherish what he has? After games in the shower, is that to remind himself that Brad is okay? When he hugs him from behind while making breakfast, is that to memorize the moment, to remember the touch, the smell, the sound that is Brad?

 

Is he just as afraid of losing Brad, as Brad is afraid of losing him?

 

“ _ You’re safe.” _ Bergy whispers, one last time, and what muddled thoughts existed in his head dissipate with the declaration.

 

He falls back asleep to nothing but his own breathing, and the sound of a heartbeat, strong and steady in his ears. 

**Author's Note:**

> If anyone wants any prompts, drop an ask in my inbox (im @thebluejayawe) or here in a review, im not working rn i got time to write *wiggles eyebrows*


End file.
